Just a Little Longer…
by mychilipeppers
Summary: There are times when "great" is not how I feel. Can't they see it in my face? They throw side comments my way thinking I won't hear them, thinking it doesn't hurt me…It does…
1. Chapter 1

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I hope you like this one shot. It popped into my head today and I had to write it. I don't know if I'll make a story based on it or not. I hope it doesn't seem too OC.

Disclaimer: I don't own the turtles.

Cool water droplets fall from the sky, the clouds hidden by the dark of the night. The rain breaths a cool sensation on my tense body and help loosen the false happiness that clings to me and choke me of emotion day after day. As everything that I've been suppressing lets loose I feel my eyes fill with tears. Everything I've been bottling up the last two weeks comes out in turrents as the rain pours harder but I can't tell which droplets are tears and which are just rain.

Thinking of the irony of this situation I let out a small snort of bitter laughter.

Who'd have thought the bubbly Michelangelo Hamato would be balling his eyes out on a lonesome rooftop in the pouring rain?

I wonder if they ever see how fake my smiles are sometimes.

Hugging my arms close to myself comfortingly I look over the street. Dim street lights brighten the sidewalk an I can see a river of water trickling down to the street drain. All the water gives everything a shiney look and I dimly wonder how much of that silvery water is mingled with my tears.

Sensei used to say that when it rained the heavens were crying. Maybe I wasn't the only one who had to get somthing out of their system tonight. Maybe those who looked down upon us weren't feeling so great either.

Why does everyone assume I'm happy all the time?

Every day it's the same question, "How are you Mikey?" And every day I give the same automated answer with one of those crooked smiles. "Oh I'm great!"

Sometimes I wish they wouldn't take that for an answer.

There are times"great" is not how I feel. Can't they see it in my face? They have to expect me to have more than one emotion. Right?

Of course they don't act like it. They throw side comments my way thinking I won't hear them, thinking it doesn't hurt me.

It does.

Every single word feels like a heavy weight crushing me even more. And I can't cry, I can't fight, I can't scream in frustration because that isn't how Mikey acts.

When I do get offensive and get mad at them for saying things they act like they don't know what's wrong. They act like calling me names is normal, that it shouldn't affect me at all.

Still I keep that smile straight on my face and never let it waver. Because, what would I be without it? Just some hollow shell of a person with nothing to live for.

I can't let them see my tears, see my pain. If I'm sad I can't show it. If I do then how are my brothers suppose to be happy?

I wonder if Leo knows how much I'm like him.

I know how he feels. We might be worlds apart but there is a part of us that is exactly the same.

We can't show how we really feel inside.

Leo's the only one who's seen me cry like this. He's the only one who's seen me drown myself in pain and dispair. I didn't even mean for it to happen.

It had been a rough week for me and finally I had to let it out. The thing was, the tears didn't hit me until it was late in the night. I just laid there for hours until finally, I started sobbing. I tried to be quiet, I really did, but Leo always knows when something's wrong.

He entered my room quietly and I hadn't even realized he was there until he spoke.

"What's wrong Mikey?" He had asked softly.

Of course I couldn't answer him.

Leo seemed to accept that too. When I didn't give him an answer he merely pulled me up to a sitting position and wrapped his arms around me. He shushed me comfortingly and hummed as I clung to him sobbing. When it was done and I laid back down, exhausted, he pulled my covers over me and silently left the room. The next morning things were back to normal.

We never talked about that night.

I wish we did.

Ever since then I've never let myself cry at home again. I always leave, late in the night, when the others were asleep. I had a suspion that the only person who knew about my late night walks was Master Splinter, though he never said anything.

No one ever said anything to me when I was sad. They would walk on egg shells and tried to act like everything was fine when I wish they would just talk to me.

As the rain turns to a light drizzle, I stand stiffly on the roof and looked down at the street below. I need to get home. My hour to myself is almost up.

One hour a week is all that I allow myself to have. I have one hour to be selfish with my emotions before I go back to being my brothers' energetic, happy brother.

I quickly leave and renter the sewer system. As I climb down the ladder I try to pull myself together.

I need to pick up the pieces and put my jummbled puzzle of emotions together again.

I just wish they would actually ask me what's wrong though. Instead of letting their question slip by and my answer go unnoticed. I wish they would dig a little deeper, push me for an explanation. In stead of excepting "I'm fine." for an answer.

As I approach the lair's enterence, I wipe the rest of the tears from my face. The fake smile I put back on for the world to see. My brothers won't see me break.

Not yet.

I need to be strong for them.

I need to hold on just a little longer.

Just a little longer… 


	2. Chapter 2

Decided to continue. Hope you like.

Disclaimer: I don't own the turtles.

Night at the lair is so much different than during the day.

During the day the lair is livily and bright but most of all it's awake. It's bursting with energy and seems to have a mind of its own.

At night though, it's quiet. Dead silent. In fact tonight the only sound I hear is the patter of rain in the distant and the occasional round of thunder. Being alone while the lair is a sleep can be a little nerve wracking at times. Over the years though I've gotten used to staying up alone. No one ever stays up as late as I do.

Well…most of the time.

There are times when Raph will stay out late with Casey, or Leo decides he needs to go clear his mind for while and leaves in the middle of the night. Even Mikey goes out once in a while.

Like tonight.

I've never really asked him about why he leaves. His business is his. I can't help noticing though that everytime he returns he's always distant and cold. Something is just off with him.

The first time I caught him coming back, I thought he'd been attacked because he was so quiet. After I realized he was fine I merely asked him where he went and Mikey immediatly shut me out.

"No where Donnie." He responded sharply turning away to hide his face. "I just went for a walk."

And with that he turned to go to his room.

I couldn't help but notice the shakiness in his voice and catching a glimpse of the tear tracks on his face.

Ever since that night though, I've ignored it when I've seen Mikey slipping out the door late into the night. I've ignored the creaking of the lair's door opening about an hour later and a stunning silence only to follow it.

I don't want to stick my nose where it doesn't belong.

I know I need to do something though. Mikey's obviously upset about something when he leaves. I need to talk to him or something.

The thought of confronting Mikey about it makes me nervous though. Dealing with my brothers' emotions has always been a problem for me. I don't want to upset him anymore. Besides, by morning he's back to normal again. Maybe he just has rough days and needs air to vent, I mean, we all have days like that. He's probably just being a regular moody teenager like the rest of us.

I hope.

My eyes lift from my work only when I hear that click of the front door being open. The creaking of the hindges stops me in my tracks as the sound reverberates throughout my lab. I squeeze the screwdriver in my hand tightly but I dare not make a sound. My mind is racing like it does when I have an idea for an invention. Should I talk to him?

I almost throw the screw driver down and go for the door. I almost run out into the hall to ask Mikey what's wrong, why does he leave. I almost run out there to figure out what has been bothering him.

I almost do.

But I don't.

I'm too much of coward to. I can't even go ask my brother if he's okay because I'm too scared he will push me away. I'm too scared that he'll get upset with me. I'm too scared that I will be the reason why he leaves.

So, being the coward that I am, I turn back to my work and begin turning the screw driver again, ignoring the hollow pad of footsteps in the hall. I don't have to ask him tonight.

I can wait.

I need to wait just a little longer.

Just a little longer… 


	3. Chapter 3

Disclaimer: I don't own tmnt.

The sound of movement out in the hall is what wakes me up.

About a million of terrible scenarios race through my head and I almost fling myself out of bed to find out who's sabotaged the lair. There has to be something wrong, otherwise this edgy feeling buzzing through me wouldn't be there.

Just as I am about to sit up in bed I hear light footsteps stop outside my door. The rhythme of their beat sounds familiar and I pause in my anxious worries. More than likey it's just one of my brothers passing through the hall to go to bed. I take a deep breath to calm myself.

Confusion hits me though when I hear the sound of my door being swung open, the hinges creaking slightly. Through my slited eyes I see the soft hallway light seep into my room a stark contrast of the dark of the night. In the doorway I see the outline of one of my brothers and I struggle to make out which one it is until I catch a glimpes of the orange mask tails.

Mikey.

He just stands there in the doorway staring at me and I almost open my mouth to ask him what's he doing out of bed at this time of night. That is, until I see his demeanor.

His arms are crossed selfcoinsously in front of his plastron and he's slumped over like a wilted plant. He shuffles slightly and shifts his weight to one side. There's something in his eyes that makes me uneasy. Like his eyes are glass that has been shattered; dangerous and brittle.

He seems hesitant, like he doesn't know if he should come in or not. I see him waver slightly as if he is going to move forward. I can't help thinking something is wrong. The way Mikey seems so unsure of himself screams something is bothering him. He refuses to come in my room though, and I know he doesn't want to wake me up.

'Talk to me Mikey' I want to yell. 'You can always talk to me'

I want to ask him what's wrong but I know the answer.

'I'm fine Leo.' He would say. Then he would give me a smile that would be as shattered as his eyes.

And we'd leave it at that.

Because that's how it's always been between us.

If he asked me what's wrong, I'd be saying the same answer only Mikey wouldn't let me go until I told him what was wrong. He was always like that. He'd listen to you rant about how the world was so cruel to you then when you turn around and ask him if he's okay his answer is "I'm great!", even though you can see the burning of frustration in his eyes.

I can't help replaying that one night over and over again in my head.

That's the closest I've ever gotten him to talk to me, holding him as he cried like I've never seen him before. His tears ran down in warm rivers over my plastron and I just held on tightly, comforting him the best I could. It's kind of hard to comfort someone when you don't know why they're crying. All I could do was be there.

That's the problem.

I'm just there.

I sit on the sidelines, not knowing what to do about him. All I can do is stand there watching as he beats himself up. I sit there and let him fall.

I'm doing what I swore I'd never do.

I'm letting Mikey get hurt.

But I'm so lost in this situation. I need something tangible to confront. It's not like I can take this enemy down with the blade of my katana. This enemy is Mikey himself. This enemy is me.

This enemy is our lack of communication.

I lay here and watch as it takes both of us down. I watch as Mikey takes a shakey step back into the hall and gently grips the door handle as he draws the door back with some more creaking. I watch as the yellow light of the hall fades as the dark of my room takes over again. He won't talk to me. He thinks I'm sleeping and he doesn't want to wake me up.

But why am I still lying here?

Why am I letting my brother do this to himself? What kind of leader, or brother, would let this happen? Mikey needs me and I sit here waiting for things to change. I want to help but I just need a little more time to organize my thoughts. If I could have a few more minutes to think.

If I could have just a little longer.

Just a little longer… 


End file.
